The Twenty Buck Headache
by Catherine E. Grant
Summary: Frank/Rachel, romantic comedy. Is Frank truly being honest with Rachel about the extent of his illness or is he only playing for sympathy?


THE TWENTY-BUCK HEADACHE  
Author: Caroline E. Grant (avatar_31@angelfire.com)  
  
Disclaimer: They're not mine, they never were mine and they never will be. Happy Hal?   
  
Summary: Frank's got a hangover...  
  
-  
THE TWENTY BUCK HEADACHE  
-  
  
"Frank! Oh, Frank!"  
  
Rachel Goldstein's good mood was obvious to anyone who saw her as she sauntered cheerfully into the station. "Hi, Helen! Seen Frank around yet?"  
  
Helen shook her head smiling. "I think he's still recovering from last night" she offered. "He did have a rough time of it, poor man!"  
Rachel snorted. "Poor man like Hell! That bastard enjoyed himself last night, I know he did, even if he won't believe what he was up to!"   
  
"You looking for Frank, Rachel?" Asked Mick, choosing just that moment to come in. "He's upstairs in the office looking like he wishes he didn't come. He's leaning over his desk and moaning and -"  
"Hey! Rachel wait up!" Goldie was already halfway up the stairs towards the D's office. Helen reached out and grabbed Mick's arm as he turned to follow. "Ah, no mate, I think we should let them sort this out between themselves," she warned. "Frank'll have a bit of a hangover, he's not going to be too happy when Rachel goes sauntering in there like that!"  
"She looks like SHE'S had a bit to drink" opinionated Mick sourly.  
"Rachel? Nah. Just happy, I'd say."  
"Because Frank's miserable?"  
"Pretty much, yeah."  
  
"Hey Frank, how's the head?" carolled Rachel cheerfully as she waltzed into the office. Frank lifted the aforementioned head from his desk and groaned. "Go 'way, Rach" he mumbled incoherently.  
"Why?" his partner asked and perched on the edge of his desk. "Is your head sore?"  
"Talk quietly please" he whispered.  
"BAD NIGHT HUH?"  
  
He winced. She was asking for it. She was REALLY asking for it. Just because he had a hangover and she didn't.   
"Why me?" muttered the detective.  
"You got plastered?" Goldie offered helpfully.   
"Arghh..."  
"It's your own fault, Francis, you asked for it. Nobody else got that drunk, but you had to go out and make friends with countless bottles of beer. And you knew you had to come work today, there's no excuse."  
  
Frank muttered something, groaned, winced again and turned pitiful eyes to his over cheerful partner. "I know, 'kay, jus shuttup and leave me 'lone" he whispered softly, clutching his aching head with one tender hand.   
  
Rachel watched him for a moment, sympathy in her expression. There was so much fun she could have with Frank like this, but nothing she really wanted to do. He looked so pitiful and childlike that she slipped automatically into what he called her 'mother-mode.'  
  
"Here, c'mon, sit down" she said quietly, putting an arm around Frank's shoulders and guiding him to a seat. "I'll get some coffee." Quickly she suited action to word and brought over a cup of strong black java. "Drink this, Francis" Goldie told him, slipping down next to him, concerned. He really looked worse than he should have from a simple hangover. "Is everything okay?"  
  
"'Cept me head" he complained, taking an absent sip of the brew. He immediately spat it out again all over the desk. "Geezya Goldie, whatcha put in this muck?"  
"Coffee" she told him bluntly, pointedly moving the pile of papers away from the drink. "You need it, don't whinge Holloway."  
"No Mummy" he said with a weak grin and forced it down.  
  
Rachel continued to sit next to him. She was really beginning to get worried about him. "You sure you're okay mate?" she asked again.  
"Yeah, tol' ya, just not too hot this mornin'" he responded tiredly.   
  
She hesitated a moment. He just looked so miserable she couldn't help herself. Snuggling up against him she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close.  
  
"Hey, what's this for?" protested Frank half-heartedly.  
"You, idiot" Goldie said softly.   
"Good reason." In return he held her to him and entangled his legs with hers.  
  
"Best hangover cure I ever had" Frank Holloway said with his normal wicked grin. Suddenly he felt a LOT better. They hadn't called him the drama king at the academy for nothing.  
  
Besides, Helen owed him twenty bucks.  
  
THE END  
  
Words: 669  
  
Just a bit of nonsense fluff I tossed out at two am. But still, feel free to send me some feedback, I like to know how I'm going.   
  
Email: avatar_31@angelfire.com  
  



End file.
